


look not mournfully into the past

by draculard



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ahch-To, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Jedi Temples and ancient texts, Luke's Jedi Academy and all the angst that goes with it, M/M, Mutual Pining, The Force Ships It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:27:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23150173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/draculard/pseuds/draculard
Summary: "I've never been in a Jedi temple before," Luke confesses.Across from him, Lor San Tekka cracks open one eye and smiles at him. "Few people have," he says.
Relationships: Luke Skywalker/Lor San Tekka
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3
Collections: It's All in the Name (Take #1)





	look not mournfully into the past

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aurae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurae/gifts).



They sit silently in the hollow of a massive tree on a planet in the Outer Rim. The wood around them is teeming with insect life, with birds whistling in the limbs outside and grooves dug onto the inside walls. Everywhere he looks, Luke feels the Force singing to him, feels it whispering through the grass and thrumming underground.

“I’ve never been in a Jedi temple before,” he confesses, his voice soft. Across from him, Lor San Tekka sits with his back against the wood; a carving of a symbol Luke can’t quite identify frames his head, marred by centuries of wind and rain and decay. 

Lor’s eyes are closed; he cracks one open, smiles at Luke. “Few people have,” he says. “What do you feel?”

Silently, Luke mimics Lor’s posture; he crosses his legs and sits up straight with his hands on his knees, his head held high. He breathes deeply, taking in a lungful of fresh, cool air laden with the scent of the forest.

“Life,” he says.

Animal life. Insect life. Plant life. The flow of water in rivers far from here; fish burrowing into mud; waves lapping against a beach made up of rocks, with shelled creatures peering out from under them at a grey sky. Birds nesting in the trees, leaves straining toward the sun.

His heart beating in his chest.

Lor San Tekka’s heartbeat matching his.

He opens his eyes and smiles, but Lor’s not watching him. His eyes are closed again, his face placid, his posture relaxed. There’s something in the curve of his lips that suggests awe, suggests praise. Somehow, without the slightest bit of Force-sensitivity, Lor is feeling all the things Luke senses, too. He’s sure of it.

He swallows his words and meditates. He lets the Force flow through him.

Flow through them both.

* * *

Their fingers touch when Lor hands him an old-fashioned book, bound in leather and printed on brittle flimsi. The pages inside are hand-written  — ancient words inscribed in a forgotten tongue. Luke scans them, eyes darting from the words to the faded illustrations, but he doesn’t take it in.

He’s aware of Lor standing across from him, hands clasped behind his back. There’s evidence of mending all over his clothes; his boots are scuffed, the soles almost worn away.

All Luke can think of is that brush of Lor’s fingers against his. He closes the book with a snap.

“How long have you been traveling?” he asks.

Lor’s lips twitch into a smile. He inclines his head a little, acknowledging Luke’s concern. He doesn’t seem to think it’s an honest question.

“It’s an ancient Jedi text,” he says, nodding toward the book. “You won’t believe the things I went through to find it.”

He’s joking, but there’s a weariness to his posture that makes Luke think there’s some truth to the words. He turns the book over in his hands, huffs out a laugh.

“Well, I appreciate it,” he says. He runs his thumb over a word burnt into the leather cover. When he concentrates and reaches out, he can feel Lor fighting exhaustion, forcing himself to stay standing, refusing to acknowledge his recent lack of food and sleep. 

Luke glances up. They make eye contact.

“Stay awhile?” Luke offers.

Gradually, reluctantly, Lor smiles and nods.

* * *

“Do you think we could have done more?” Luke asks.

Lor’s hair is white now. Luke’s is going grey. He stares at the holodisplay in his hands, at the blue lines of a map shimmering in the air before him. Beside him, his shoulder touching Luke’s, Lor stares out over the cliffs at the ocean.

“He would have turned, regardless, I think,” Lor says. “But he will come back.”

It’s not what Luke is really asking. Something twists in his stomach; something aches in his chest. When Lor looks over at him, he misinterprets Luke’s expression the same way he misinterpreted Luke’s words.

“You’ll be safe there,” he says, gesturing toward the map. They both know Luke doesn’t care about his own safety. The wind rises behind them, blowing ashes from Luke’s academy over their way. A shattered kyber crystal rattles amongst the pebbles and comes to rest against Lor San Tekka’s boot.

He picks it up, holds it reverently in the palm of his hand. He misses the way Luke watches him.

He’s misinterpreting things on purpose, Luke thinks.

“Come with me,” he says.

“I can’t,” says Lor. He doesn’t hesitate. He tucks the broken crystal into a pocket over the left side of his chest, blue eyes piercing straight through Luke as he does it. “And you don’t want me to,” he says.

Luke wants to argue. His jaw is tight; he’s chewing on the words.

“It’s not what you need,” says Lor, firm and gentle and confident. 

Perhaps he’s right. 

* * *

On Ahch-To, Luke remembers their knees touching as they sat across from each other in a hollow tree, experiencing the Force together for the first time, Lor’s spiritual wonder touching Luke, forcing him to examine the Force in a way he never had.

He remembers their fingers brushing as Lor handed him a Jedi text Luke never bothered to read all the way through. He remembers inviting Lor to stay, to rest, remembers the firelight reflecting from Lor’s eyes as they sat down together, remembers the lump in his throat as he tried to speak.

Remembers Lor’s shoulder against his, the grief of Luke’s failures and Lor’s lost Jedi Order hovering between them like an invisible wall.

_ Do you think we could have done more? _ Luke asked.

Shoulders touching. Luke’s eyes on Lor’s lips, then flicking away. The hum of the Force inside them, rhythms matching beat for beat.

Luke hasn’t felt the Force flow through him in years. He closes his eyes, remembers Lor’s face, considers opening himself up again.

There’s nothing for it, he tells himself. There’s nothing more.


End file.
